The One With The Week After London
by Oldreruns
Summary: Part 1 of an ongoing Mondler canon series. Exploring the beginning of Monica & Chandler's relationship over that first week between London and before Rachel returns from Greece. Fills in gaps between S5 E1 & S5 E2. Humor/heart. All chapters are now up. My first fanfic so any criticism or review is welcome. Thanks for taking the time to read.
1. Sunday

**Sunday**

Standing in the doorway, Chandler turns, raises his eyebrows and flashes an impish smile at Monica. He gives her a soft "bye" as he exits her apartment, closing the door gently behind him.

Monica's smile slowly fades. She looks down pensively, bites her lip and feels her stomach tense up. She raises her gaze and a brief look of determination flashes across her face as she begins to walk briskly towards the door. A wave of self-doubt crashes down on her and she stops, inches away and pivots back to face the inside of her apartment. She stretches out her fingers, exhaling deeply in an attempt to quiet the anxiety she feels. As she resigns herself to ignore her instincts, she hears a rustling of the knob as the door opens behind her, the cold air generated by the sudden movement tickles her back. She spins around on her toes to see Chandler return.

He closes the door quickly behind him as his eyes dart around the floor. He takes in a deep breath while brushing a finger across the tip of his nose, finally working up the courage to bring his eyes up, meeting her gaze.

"I'm still on London time. Does that count?"

The tension in Monica's shoulders instantly subsides. She shakes her head in relief as the nervous energy is expelled from her entire being as she replaces it with hungry desire.

"Oh, that counts."

They passionately collide against each other, embracing as they begin to share a long fervid kiss. Chandler's hands move from her waist to the small of her back to the sides of Monica's face; tracing circles with his thumbs around her jawline just beneath her earlobes, while Monica runs her hands up to the base of his neck, extending her fingertips through the back of his hair.

They begin to move slowly out of the kitchen, never releasing each other, never opening their eyes, allowing no space between their lips. The two of them moving as if choreographed. They navigate through the apartment, around the couch, threading themselves between the over-sized chair and the coffee table, towards Monica's bedroom.

Monica slides her hand from Chandler's face, reaching down behind her back, grasping, then turning the knob as they push themselves through. Her hand returns to Chandler's face as he then reaches down and closes the door behind them.

* * *

A few hours pass before the bedroom door flies open again; Chandler and Monica, still completely wrapped around each other and kissing, walk together as one back into the living room. The only way to know they have been separated at all during this time is the fact that they are now each wearing one of Monica's terry cloth robes, her in black and Chandler in a deep red. Their hair is disheveled and a sheen of dried sweat beaded across their necklines.

"Hungry?" Monica says softly in between kisses.

"Yeah." Chandler replies breathlessly.

They resume sharing deep kisses, holding each other and walk as one towards the kitchen. They stop in front of the refrigerator.

"I think I have a frozen lasagna in here somewhere." Monica moans breathlessly. Chandler, eyes still closed, reaches over with one hand, opens the freezer door and pulls out a small square-shaped tin pan. Never once releasing Monica or breaking their kiss. "It's so cold" he notes softly.

They start to shuffle together, over to the oven. Monica reaches her arm across the range to the controls and turns the dial. Chandler lifts one of his legs up, revealing that he is wearing a pair of Monica's fuzzy pink socks, and hooks his foot through the handle of the oven door. He pulls it down, Monica squats slightly, reaches in and pulls out one of the embedded trays as Chandler carelessly drops the frozen lasagna and pushes the tray in as he closes the door back up. Kissing over and over again with their eyes closed the entire time.

"It will probably take a half hour to heat up." she says between kisses. They both moan approvingly as they start to walk, entwined, back to her bedroom.

"Wait. Timer." she whispers, eyes still closed, they stop and walk back towards the kitchen. Monica's hand flails about on the counter until she feels the plastic egg timer in her grasp. Chandler reaches over and turns the dial and their fingers interlock, as they both hold the timer and head back to Monica's bedroom.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later they emerge from her room, still kissing, still holding onto each other. They switched robes at some point, Monica is now in the red and Chandler in the black. They share intimate, gentle touches as they make their way back to the kitchen.

Monica blindly reaches out and turns the oven off. Chandler opens the door, starts to put his free hand in, but quickly pulls it back out. "Ow. Too hot." he mumbles and resumes kissing her. With eyes closed, Monica slides her hand into an oven mitt that was resting on the counter. "I've got it" she says, as she pulls the tin square of food out, dropping it onto the stovetop.

"We should wait for it to cool off," she whispers, "Maybe we should get cleaned up?"

As she resumes kissing him, Chandler nods in agreement, which makes both of them raise and drop their heads together at the same time. They shamble their way around the kitchen table and turn sharply, moving towards the bathroom. Monica lifts her hand, still wearing the oven mitt, and begins caressing the top of Chandler's head. They enter the bathroom and close the door. The sound of a shower being turned on can be heard throughout the quiet, empty apartment.

The front door opens up and Joey bounces into the apartment. "Mon! Hey, anybody home? Has anyone seen Chandler? He's been gone all day!" He walks into the kitchen and looks around. He doesn't see anyone and starts to turn back to the front door when he sees the tin square of food on the oven. He opens up a corner and smells the contents excitedly. "Oh man! Lasagna!" He grabs the tray and heads back out.

The shower turns off. Monica and Chandler exit the bathroom, and again, have switched robes. They are still stuck in an embrace, still kissing, and with their eyes closed, they make their way back to the kitchen. They both take one hand and begin to flail around, hunting for the tray of food that they had left out. They each open one eye to find that the tin pan is no longer there. They both shrug their shoulders, and make their way back to the refrigerator. Monica pulls out some packages that contain sliced cheese and meat. "Sandwiches." she murmurs. Chandler doesn't answer, but instead reaches over and grabs a loaf of bread, flinging it onto the kitchen table. They separate their bodies for the first time and look at each other lustfully.

Monica begins to speak, her voice low and sultry "Maybe we should go back to the bedroom one more time first."

Chandler looks up at the ceiling and mouths "Thank you", looks back at Monica and proclaims proudly, "This is the best day of my life! Ever!" Monica smiles and leans back into Chandler. They start to kiss again, arms wrapped tightly around each other, and slowly move back to her bedroom.

Just as the bedroom door closes behind them, the front door swings open again. Joey walks over to the kitchen, opening drawers as he rummages around clumsily, until he finds a large spoon. He holds it up triumphantly "Ah ha!"

Joey turns to leave and stops short, looking over at the kitchen table where Monica and Chandler left the meat, cheese and bread. He looks up at the ceiling and mouths "thank you", looks back at the food and proclaims proudly, "This is the best day of my life! Ever!" He scoops up all the sandwich making supplies and bounds happily out of the apartment.


	2. Monday

**Monday**

Chandler starts to stir out of his slumber and opens his eyes sheepishly. A sly grin starts to spread across his face as his mind plays out selected memories from the previous day and from last night's marathon love making session with Monica. He looks over at a clock on the end table.

"Seven_? Is it seven already?"_

Chandler quickly scans his surroundings. His clothes from yesterday are neatly folded and have been carefully placed at the foot of the bed. His jacket has been picked up off the floor and hung over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. There's a half-filled glass of water resting on a coaster on the nightstand next to him. He decides to sit up to sip some water and then looks down to see he is still wearing Monica's fuzzy pink socks.

If he were waking up in his own apartment, the scene would be very different. Chandler is not used to everything being tidied up before work. Or after work. Or really at any time during the day.

"_Either I'm being given a hint to hurry up and get the hell out of here, or my sex life has just been Monica Geller'ed!"_

He smiles again. Partly amused at himself, partly because he just put the words "sex" and "Monica" together so easily, and partly because her socks are unbelievably soft and cozy. He takes a moment to wonder if they make them for men.

* * *

Monica has been awake for over an hour. She bites down lightly on her lower lips as she stands at the sink in the kitchen, trying to wash some dishes. Once she heard Chandler moving around in the bedroom, she started a pot of coffee. She was going to make some toast, but can't seem to find the bread that she was certain they had left out on the kitchen table last night. With no other options, she quickly cut up some fruit from the centerpiece and threw it in a bowl for her and Chandler to share as a light breakfast before walking over to the sink. If she was being honest, she would have to admit that the only reason she was keeping herself busy was so she would not think about her and Chandler and all the sex they had yesterday and last night.

She tried to keep her mind occupied all morning. She showered, straightened up the apartment, put clean towels in the bathroom, got dressed, then, deciding that it might not look like she was being casual if she were dressed this early, she snuck back into her bedroom and changed into her pajamas and a robe.

"_Casual. I'm just a cool, calm collected lady. No over-thinking things for me. Nope. I mean, I just had sex with my best friend. Again. And then again and again. That always works out for people. Sex never complicates anything. Not if you're caaasssuuuaaalllll." _

Monica looks down to realize she's been washing the same cup for ten minutes.

Chandler pokes his head out of Monica's bedroom and looks around.

"Psst! Hey! Mon! Hey! Heeeeyyyyy!"

He tries to whisper, but it just sounds like panicked, hushed yelling. He starts to wave his arms frantically, trying to get her attention.

"Hey! Is it safe? Is anyone here?"

"No one is here. You can come out. And if anyone was here, you probably would have fooled them with how quiet and calm you are being. You're a real smooth operator Bing."

Chandler makes his way to the kitchen, mockingly repeating what Monica just said. She notices that he is dressed in his clothes from yesterday. Chandler tugs at the collar of his shirt.

"Did you iron these?"

Monica shrugs her shoulders and nods as she shrinks down in embarrassment.

"So, Mon, are we alone? Because I was thinking, maybe we should talk."

Monica nods, sighs and grabs two mugs of coffee. She sits down at the kitchen table, extending one of the mugs to Chandler. He pulls out a chair and sits. Both of them sip from their mugs in awkward silence, avoiding eye contact for what feels like an eternity.

They both look up at the same time and begin to speak.

"Chandler."

"Monica."

They hesitate for a moment, looking for the other to finish what they were going to say. When neither of them speaks up, they start to talk at the same time again, saying the same words simultaneously, like a rehearsed chorus.

"Sorry, you go."

"No, You first."

No, You!"

They both begin to raise their voices, and once again, speak in unison.

"This is ridiculous!"

"Stop it!"

"No, you stop!"

They both smirk at each other and then ask at the same time.

"How long can we keep this up?"

They pause again, contemplating a word they can say out loud to break this pattern. They both widen their eyes, point a finger at each other and loudly shout.

"Banana nut muffins!"

Just then the door opens and Joey walks in. Both Monica and Chandler turn quickly to face him and share the same nervous smile.

"Hey guys. What's going on. Did I hear someone say something about muffins?"

Monica looks over at Joey, half relieved that this little play of theirs was finally broken up and half relived that he did not suspect anything.

"No Joe, we don't have any muffins."

Joey looks at her with wounded eyes.

"Why would you be so cruel as to make a man think there are muffins when there aren't any muffins! I mean, do you know…"

"…The muffin man?" Chandler interrupts smugly.

"Who?"

Monica smirks as she chimes in "Oh you know him. He lives on Drury lane."

Chandler and Monica look at each other, snicker, and share a smile.

Joey backs up to the door. "You guys are really weird. All right. Well if there aren't any muffins, I'm gonna go. You shouldn't make people think you have muffins when you don't have any muffins!"

Both Monica and Chandler respond at the same time.

"See you later Joe."

They look at each other angrily and shout at each other.

"Stop that! You stop that! This isn't funny!"

They both sit back in their chairs and fold their arms in a huff.

Joey looks back-and-forth at each of them before he leaves. "You guys are really weird."

The apartment is quiet again. Monica looks down at her coffee.

Chandler looks up at her, "Mon. Look. I don't want things to be weird between us."

Monica looks around the room for a bit and stands up. "Well, maybe it doesn't have to get weird."

Chandler looks up at her with a puzzled look on his face. "What do you mean?"

Monica paces a bit, walking into the living room as she swings her arms around. "Well, maybe we keep this quiet, you know, between ourselves. We don't tell anyone. Then we can just sort of see what happens."

Chandler stands up and follows Monica. "Hey, yeah. That could work. Maybe if no one else knows about this it won't get weird. Without all the questions and the advice and the jokes at our expense, maybe, you know, we can have this," Chandler waggles his eyebrows, "and still keep things going like they are normally?"

Monica bites her lip for a moment and looks around the room. "Yeah, that could work. Whenever everyone is around, we just act normal. Some might say, we act _caaasssuuuaaalllll._"

Chandler arches his eyebrows and gives Monica a sideways glance. "Do I have to say it like that?"

Monica rolls her eyes at him. Just then the phone rings. She reaches down and picks up the receiver.

"Hello? oh hey Rach. Huh? Greece? What? But why? Ross did what? And you won't be back until when?" she looks over at Chandler and gives him a suspicious-looking smile. "Okay, well call me when you find a flight so I know when you're coming back."

Monica hangs up and looks at Chandler "So, apparently Ross and Rachel were going to go on his honeymoon to Greece, but she got on the plane and he never did. Now she's in Greece. By herself. She probably won't be home until the end of the week!"

Chandler throws his hands up and lets out an exasperated sigh. "See, it is things like this which is why we don't want anyone to know about us."

"I know!" Monica shouts. "So, you know what this means? We have the place to ourselves. I don't have to go to work until later. Do you have to go in this morning?' She looks over at Chandler with a bashfulness that forces him to return a smile.

"Well, let me think." He extends his hands out as if he is weighing two different items. He gestures with one hand "Go to work." Then looks over at the other "Have sex with Monica." He begins rocking his hand like they're a pair of scales. "Work. Sex. Work. Sex. Woorrrrkkk. Seeeexxxxx."

Monica arches her eyebrows and gives him a sideways glance. "Do I have to say it like that?"

"No! Let me just call in sick." Chandler slides passed Monica, plants a quick kiss on her cheek, and makes his way to the phone. He picks up the receiver and starts to dial.

Monica looks down at Chandler's feet. "Uh, Chandler. Honey."

"Yeah Mon."

"Why are you wearing my socks?"


	3. Tuesday

**Tuesday**

Monica makes her way up the last flight of stairs that lead to her floor. A familiar, gentle ache moves across her calves as a painful reminder of this evening's shift at the restaurant where she stood in the kitchen for over ten hours with hardly any breaks in between. She glances at her watch.

_"1:30am. Ugh!" _

She is used to late nights as a result of her job. Stress compounded with constant movement in the small spaces of the kitchen over hot grills and ovens can wear down even the most energetic of chefs . Although it was only a Monday night, the crowds were bigger than usual as people try to squeeze the last drops of summer from the calendar with a late supper dining out.

Tonight, feels different though. She is more tired than usual. She's cranky. Irritable. Everyone at work got on her nerves for even the slightest of reasons. She'd like to think it was just because she was off for so long, out of the country due to her brother's wedding. Either that or maybe because she hasn't gotten as much sleep as she normally does thanks her and Chandler have been on "London time" for the last day-and-a-half.

That thought causes her to pause in the hallway before she reaches her door. A smile slowly forms across her lips.

_"Chandler." _

Suddenly the weight of her last shift escapes from her muscles and she relaxes. Then, inexplicitly, tension comes to her face and her smile changes to a worried expression.

_"Oh no! I wasn't cranky because of work, I was cranky because I missed Chandler! Damnit!"_

She stops at her door. Smoothing out her shirt and fidgeting with the hem.

"_Maybe he's up." _

She turns towards the door to his apartment and looks to see if there is any light escaping from underneath.

_"Nothing. Of course, there's nothing_._ Chandler is probably asleep. It's late. He has to work. __And, you know, it's Chandler._"

She bites her lower lip and lets out an embarrassed smile as she shakes her head.

_"I mean, you know. Chandler. We went over this. He isn't exactly boyfriend materiel. He isn't even waiting up for me. I don't know why I am getting so worked up about it. I'm used to this. Guys don't have the same reaction as girls do when sex is introduced to the relationship. And this isn't just some guy I went on a date with. This is, you know, Chandler. I'm putting way too much thought into this. Okay, we are friends. We are having fun. Why put any unrealistic expectations on him. Or this."_

She looks back over at the darkness around his door.

_"He obviously isn't thinking about it as much as I am. UGH! Get it together Geller!" _

Monica knows she's being unreasonable. It's only been four days. Four wonderful, amazing, and completely satisfying days since the first time they slept together after the rehearsal dinner. She doesn't even know what she really wants out of this. How is she supposed to expect Chandler to already know what he wants? Or what she is thinking? She doesn't even know what she is thinking.

"Plus, you know" she says out loud, "It's Chandler."

She puts her key in the door, opens it, and walks in. The weariness returning to her form.

"_Shower. __A hot shower. T__hat's what I need." _

She starts to reach for the light switch when she suddenly freezes in her motions. She notices a dimming glow coming from the living room. She smells something in the air, not quite vanilla, not quite cinnamon. Something warm though, and sweet and inviting even if the scent is a little too aggressive. She makes her way out of the kitchen and sees a few small candles burning slowly, resting on the coffee table.

_"We didn't light any candles, if we did, I know I would have blown them out before I left for work." _

She approaches the candles, intent on extinguishing the fickle flames, only to see a haphazard arrangement of what looks like flower petals spread out around the coffee table. She picks one up and feels its supple, velvety texture.

_"This is from a real flower." _

She lifts her head up towards her bedroom and can see a small trail of petals leading to the door. A warm glow coming from underneath. Suddenly a smile so wide grows on her face that it feels like it will split her cheeks apart. She rushes to the door, opening it up, and upon doing so, the aches and weariness from the long night at work once again lift out of her body, leaving her feeling invigorated once again. She enters the room, and with excited eyes, looks around. Once again the soft glow of candles greets her. She takes in the sweet smell of the fresh flowers that fills the space and turns her eyes down to the bed to finds Chandler. Sleeping. On top of her comforter. With his shoes still on.

She looks around the room. Two glasses, a bottle of wine (or something like that) in an ice bucket on the nightstand. Comforter and sheets half pulled back. More flower petals on the bed. Stems, picked clean, sticking out of her garbage can. A scent that is sweet, even if a little cheap wafting through the room from the candles. And Chandler. Snuggled up with a pillow on the left side of the bed. Every so often a slow, quiet snore escapes from somewhere deep within him.

She smiles brightly and leans over to gently kiss him on the forehead. She looks around the room again and releases a deep, satisfied sigh. She takes the ice bucket and the bottle into the kitchen and drops it in the sink.

_"Wine really shouldn't be served this cold. I'll have to teach him how to prepare wine the right way." _

She returns to the room to wipe down the surface of the nightstand where the bucket was resting.

_"He really needs to learn about the dangers of condensation on furniture, this could have been a disaster!" _

She walks over to her bureau, opens the top drawer and removes a large, yellow envelope. She carefully picks up the flower petals from the bed, placing each one carefully inside. She folds over the tab and places it back in the drawer.

_"Does he know he didn't need to pick these off the stems. They sell bags of flower petals."_

She then circles around to Chandler and slowly slips off his shoes. She places them gently into her closet, side-by-side on the floor, making sure to line up the heels and toes perfectly.

_"We are definitely talking about this tomorrow. Who wears shoes in bed!" _

Monica then walks over to her dresser, slips out of her clothes and pulls on an over-sized shirt. She takes careful care in blowing out each lit candle.

_"I have got to show him __the right candles to buy. These cheap department store candles leave such a stink." _

She slides into bed and presses herself into Chandler's body while pulling the sheets and comforter over them. She moves the pillow out from under his arm and takes its place, snuggling into his chest. She feels him tug her body closer, squeezing gently and she nestles herself into him.

Chandler starts to stir a bit, sounding confused, as he speaks softly.

"Mon?'

"Shh. Go back to sleep." She pushes herself a little deeper into his arms. Pressing her body even closer to his.

"Oh No! I fell asleep. Oh man. I can't believe I ruined this. I'm such an idiot!"

His eyes open as he begins to become unsettled, threatening to disturb their quiet embrace. Monica moves one hand up behind her to touch his face and softly tries to soothe him.

"Shh, shh. Chandler, it's okay. It's very late. I appreciate the effort. We can have a rain-check."

"No, tonight was supposed to be perfect. I wanted to make everything perfect. You've been so perfect and I just wanted to…" His voice starts to groggily trail off.

"Shh." She continues to softly run the back of her hand along his cheek. Chandler's breathing becomes steady as he falls back asleep. She whisper at an almost inaudible level. "This is perfect. Wonderfully, surprisingly perfect." Her eyes flutter as she drifts off and slowly joins him in a deep, satisfying slumber.


	4. Wednesday

**Wednesday**

The early morning sun breaks through the large window facing the balcony as shiny beams of light in-between the shadows. Monica is deftly moving from the refrigerator to the cabinets, and to the counter. Pulling out glasses, pouring juice, taking down bowls, passing out cereal and milk. Tending to everyone's needs without being asked.

Phoebe is sitting on the couch. She has decided a few weeks ago that she is just too pregnant to sit comfortably in one of the kitchen chairs. She also has to pee every five minutes, so having an unobstructed path to the bathroom is now a requirement. She occasionally offers up musings about some observation she has due to her pregnancy; she'll go on about stretchy pants, swollen fingers or just marvels about how large her breasts have gotten.

Joey, seated at the kitchen table, is crunching away at some Frosted Flakes he brought over from the boy's apartment. His focus is laser sharp on his breakfast. Joey normally does not like to be distracted from food, although, whenever Phoebe mentions her new pregnancy boobs, he tends to perk up.

Chandler is sitting across from Joey, coffee cup in front of him, the liquid has gone cold and untouched. He sits with one leg crossed over the other, pretending to read the paper, trying to look as normal as possible.

_"See, this isn't so hard. Everything is normal. Just be casual Chandler. Caaaasssuuuuaalllll!"_

He scrunches his face and gives a quick, disapproving shake of his head when he realizes Monica's exaggerated pronunciation of "casual" is now the only way he can say the word.

He slept here again. In her bed. With her in his arms. He has not slept in his own bed since they got back from London. He has not gone to work since they got back from London. He cannot even remember if he has been inside his own apartment for more than twenty minutes at a time since they got back from London. His entire way of life is different now, thanks to London.

He makes sure to sneak back across the hall each day; normally early in the morning to grab a change of clothes, or to brush his teeth. Anything to make his presence known and to keep Joey from becoming suspicious. Other than that, he only wants to be here, in Monica's apartment, all the time. He wants to be with Monica all the time. He wants to kiss her before he falls asleep. He wants to kiss her when he wakes up. He wants to kiss her before he leaves for work. He wants to kiss her right now and, if he is capable of being honest with himself, that thought is scaring him.

_"I can't let Mon know that I am thinking like this."_ His nostrils flair and his jaw tenses up. _"T__hat would totally freak her out and repel her. I can't screw this up by going all Chandler on her now."_

He looks up at her while she continues her movements in the kitchen and the tension dissolves as he smiles. Suddenly, he becomes distinctly self-aware that he is now staring at Monica and the tension returns to his face as he glances over at Joey to make sure he did not notice the mollified look that had washed over his face.

_"Don't make it weird. Wait, am I being weird right now? Is everyone looking at me? Quick, say something normal. Make it not weird. WHY CAN'T YOU THINK OF ANYTHING NORMAL TO SAY?!"_

His face becomes more and more tense as his eyes widen in horror at the uncomfortable silence in the room. Frantically, he looks over at Phoebe and just starts to move his mouth without even knowing exactly what is going to come out of it.

"So, uh, Pheebs. I thought you loved those babies."

She turns her head back to the group in the kitchen. "Huh?"

"You know, because, uh, if you loved them so much, well then, uh, why did you eat them?"

Joey stops eating his cereal and looks up at Chandler with a confused expression on his face. Monica turns around from the counter and raises an eyebrow in disbelief at him.

Chandler turns to them and laughs nervously.

"I'm just saying..."

He turns back to Phoebe.

"Because they're in your belly."

He looks back at Joey and Monica.

"You know, like if she ate them."

His voice gets low and he looks off, wistfully, avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the apartment.

_"There, that wasn't weird; __as long as talking about eating babies isn't weird, YOU BIG JERK!"_

"What are you talking about?" Monica's tone is nervous, yet demanding.

Joey looks at Chandler as if wounded by his words.

"Why would you talk about that while I am eating? You know I don't like the pregnancy stuff! There's no way I can finish this now!" He pauses and a ponderous look appears on his face. "Well, I can't look at Pheebs and eat this now." He gets up, grabs his bowl, snatches the box of cereal from the table, and walks out the front door. He turns back before he exits the apartment. "Sorry Pheebs, blame Chandler!"

Phoebe looks over at Chandler. "You know how you always have to make a joke? Maybe try not doing that."

She then huffs as she strains to get up out from the couch, making irritated grunts as she tries to lift herself up. "All right! All right! ALL RIGHT! You babies! Stop doing that! I'm going! I'M GOING!" She finally rises to her feet and rushes off to the bathroom as quickly as she can.

Chandler cranes his neck and listens for the bathroom door to close. Once he hears the click of the latch bolt, he springs up out of his chair, drops the newspaper onto the table and meets Monica at the sink. Monica is already smiling at him, anticipating their embrace. They share a long, passionate kiss as Monica trails her fingers along his earlobes.

"Chandler, why would you talk about eating babies?"

"I didn't want it to get weird."

She pulls back from him for a moment and flashes him a pair of incredulous eyes.

"And that wasn't weird?" She puts her arms around his neck and places one more kiss on his lips. "Look, sweetie, you don't have to try that hard. You just have to pretend that we aren't having sex."

Chandler tilts his head and looks off to the side. "Pretend I'm not having sex? I think I can manage that. I have a lot of experience with that actually." He starts to smirk and rubs his chin.

Monica gives Chandler an exasperated look, "Do you want to make jokes or do you want to make out?"

"Oh, well, make out of course."

"Uh huh." she affirms. "Good."

Chandler lets a slow, relaxed smile start to form on his lips. Suddenly, he flashes an expression of frustration. "No. Oh, but dammit! I have to go to work today."

They kiss again, running their hands around each other's face, they take turns tracing their fingers along their partner's jawline and running their fingertips through each other's hair. "I have to work too."

"I better go."

She protests breathlessly as Chandler pulls away. They both groan as their hands drop down to their sides. Chandler slowly makes his way out of the apartment. He turns to her, smiles weakly, his face already betraying how miserable he is to leave. They both share one last, longing look as they whisper "goodbye" to each other.

Phoebe comes back out of the bathroom. "Look, I know Joey likes him, but I really think we have to rethink this whole Chandler thing. At least maybe we shouldn't let him around babies. I don't think he knows what they are for."

Monica exhales out a short laugh. "Look Pheebs, I have to step out for a little while and check on Ross' apartment. I promised I would do that before he got back from London. He hasn't been able to get in contact with Emily at all and is trying to catch a flight back Sunday or Monday. Do you want me to send Joey over to keep you company?"

"Oh yay! I like Joey! And I like company! That's just a great combo."

Monica lets out another little laugh, throws on a sweater and leaves the apartment.

A few minutes later Joey walks in. "Hey Pheebs. Mon said you wanted some company."

"Yes. I don't want to sit here by myself. Well, I guess technically I'm not alone. There's the three babies inside me and my Uncle Harris is always with us, of course."

Joey tilts his head but decides to ignore her last comment and makes his way over to the couch. "Man. What is up with Chandler. He has been acting strange all week."

Phoebe's expression becomes sympathetic. "I know. I really worry about him. At this rate he may never get a girlfriend."

Joey nods back at Phoebe. "Poor guy."

* * *

Monica steps out of Alessandro's with a sigh and a deep, exhale as the weight of the night leaves her shoulders. She runs her fingers through her hair and tries to alleviate the stress of another long day of work with some tactile sensations. She takes in a breath of the crisp late summer, early autumn New York evening air when suddenly a familiar voice startles her from her reverie.

"Excuse me miss. Do you know where I can find the chef of this fine establishment?"

Monica turns around to see Chandler leaning against the wall, holding a small clutch of flowers.

"I hear she is absolutely beautiful."

She smiles widely at him, takes his hand and kisses his cheek. They walk down the street; speaking softly, laughing and sharing light touches the entire way.


	5. Thursday

**Thursday**

Monica always wakes before her alarm clock goes off. It doesn't matter what time she sets it for, her eyes always open up at least fifteen minutes before the bell rings. Just one more of those weird Monica quirks that people don't understand. It doesn't bother her though, she likes waking up early. Those few hours before breakfast are perfect for getting chores done. She can take some time to polish the furniture, give the bathroom a quick, but thorough cleaning, wipe down the shelves in the refrigerator, or just get smudges off the windows. She likes being able to get these things done when no one is around to be in the way, and she loves how the morning light looks in her apartment. It makes everything feel a little magical and never fails to put her in a good mood.

Her favorite way to enjoy these early morning hours is to run some errands, especially this time of year. The days are still long enough where the sun has already risen and is just starting to peek out over the neighborhood buildings, painting the Manhattan skyline in beautiful pinks, yellows, and reds. The air is sharp and cool with the promise of autumn days to come, but not too cold where you need a heavy jacket. This early in the morning, the streets are just a little bit emptier and easier to navigate, which she prefers because people tend to get in her way and on her nerves when she has places to go. It truly feels like her own private, secret version of New York when she steps out of her building and onto the street.

You can get a lot done early in the morning, as long as you make sure to have a clear and organized plan, which Monica always does. She has her itinerary all mapped out in advance the night before to avoid any delays. She knows which stores are open at this hour, who has the shortest lines, which bakeries have started to put out their hot, fresh bread, and which green grocer already has the good produce out on display. If she has time, she can make her way down to the fish market just as they are unpacking their deliveries. On an early, sunny day, New York is an amusement park of fresh food and beautiful storefronts painted with sunlight.

Thursday mornings are her absolute favorite. She doesn't have to work, so she doesn't feel rushed. She can drop off her dry cleaning without waiting, grab a fresh brewed cup of coffee for the walk, and just take her time and unwind. She can also afford herself one or two detours while still getting back home before Rachel is out of the shower, and long before anyone from the gang starts coming around looking for breakfast.

On Thursdays, she likes to hunt around for some seldom-used ingredients and fresh herbs and then work out new recipes in the afternoon that she can later test on her friends before attempting to introduce them at the restaurant. She even gets to walk around the local cheese shop and bring home some of her favorite selections for a light lunch.

Thursday mornings are most definitely Monica's favorite; but if she were being honest, she would admit she really loves them because she gets to be alone with her own thoughts. She loves her friends, but getting some quiet time where someone is not always talking or looking for her to talk can be cathartic. No one is asking her to do anything. She isn't forced to listen to anyone complain or bite her tongue when they ignore her advice. The only people she interacts with are the shopkeepers, who are all always friendly and familiar and willing to recommend to her some new, fresh product that they just got in.

She looks over at the clock and sighs. By now, she would be out the door with one or two tasks already efficiently completed. Not today though. Today is different. This entire week has been different. She's been different. Less tense. Quicker to smile. Her mind hasn't been racing nearly as much as it normally does. She doesn't feel like she is always in a rush. She is content to lay here in bed, even though she used to feel like it was wasting valuable time that she could spend being more productive.

She has been feeling out of character all week, and it took her until this morning to figure out what was really going on with her and why she was acting so strange. This morning after Monica woke up, she realized that she did something she has not done for as long as she can remember. It seems so ridiculous to recognize a seismic shift in her life with such a mundane detail, something that no one else in the world would notice except for her. Something that may seem so insignificant to other people, but to Monica, means everything and it might actually mean that her whole world is about to change.

Monica slept on the wrong side of the bed.

Moreover, once it dawned on her what had happened, she didn't really care. Instead of frantically obsessing over where she was positioned on the bed, and trying to come up with a scheme to switch sides, she simply smiled, closed her eyes, and rested contently.

With other guys she would obsess over where she slept, as if she could choreograph a perfect night simply by how and where she was positioned on the bed, or how neat and organized the bedroom was. She would hide how important it was for her to have everything facing the right direction; how she needs her toes lined up with the window and the pillows turned to the correct angle with the opening facing to her right. The dresser drawers would need to be pushed all the way in and the closet door shut tightly. The chair in the corner of the room would normally be facing the other direction and there is no chance the dirty laundry in the hamper would be on display.

With another man, Monica would currently be fighting the urge to get up and fix everything, fearing how it would look to someone new and what that person would think of her once they found out just how crazy she can get about all these details. Not with Chandler though. Now, to be fair, he is also the reason everything is out of order. He sat in the chair and moved it; he nervously opened and closed the closet door, leaving it just slightly ajar before they went to bed. He fidgeted with some of her things on the dresser, leaving them out of order.

_"Come to think of it, __he made a real mess."_

With Chandler, she has no fears of what he might think of her and her obsessive need for cleanliness and organization. He already knows all of this about her. She could get up right now, fix everything and he wouldn't blink an eye. She could start ironing towels or going through her sock drawer making sure everything was still lined up and he wouldn't question her. Knowing this puts Monica at ease. She is completely relaxed and while she is definitely going to straighten the room up later, she does not feel like she has to do it right now.

This is why she had her epiphany. She had it when she realized why she wasn't walking around the city this morning, why she wasn't cleaning the living room, why she wasn't straightening up her bedroom and why she fell asleep on the wrong side of the bed. She isn't doing any of these things because she's happy. For the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time in her life, she is truly happy, and all those insecurities and doubts are an afterthought.

Monica isn't even over analyzing her happiness. Normally she would reflect on everything that she was feeling and commence on a downward spiral of self-conscious evaluation where she would pick at every negative aspect of what was happening to her. She would obsess over everything she had done in the past and everything she could possibly do in the future until she convinced herself that her happiness was a mirage.

However, she isn't doing that this time. Instead, she is just laying here, on her side, watching Chandler sleep. She notices how his chest rises and falls with each deep breath. Every so often, she will take a finger and run it along his arm. She'll tug lightly at his sleeve. She'll lean in and place a single, soft kiss on his cheek. She can't help herself but be smitten.

_"He just looks so cute when he is sleeping." _

Monica rolls back into Chandler, snuggling herself into his body, and decides to close her eyes and stay in repose for a little while longer. Soon enough, her brother will be back from England and her roommate will be back from Greece. Soon enough, the apartment will no longer belong to the two of them and these quiet moments in the morning will not be as easy to come by while they try to hide whatever it is that they are doing from the others.

So Monica is not thinking about what side of the bed she is on. She is not cleaning her room. She is not going shopping. She is going to stay right here with him and revel in her newfound happiness. She is completely content to enjoy this moment to the fullest, even if it means missing one of her private, magical Thursday mornings.


	6. Friday

**Friday**

Chandler is in a terrible mood. He had no intention of coming in to work today. His original plan was simple, stay home and have sex with Monica as many times as he could physically manage. Instead, he finds himself sitting at his desk, grumbling about everything he sees or hears. He can't focus, he has zero initiative to finish any of his projects, and every time one of his coworkers tries to talk to him, he rushes them out of his office with an "Okay then, thank you, bye bye now."

When he is alone, he alternates between fidgeting with items on his desk or rapping his fingers loudly on the top of his computer monitor. He also can't seem to get comfortable in his seat; twisting and turning as he groans. He starts to play with the levers that control the height of his office chair and it drops down like an anvil causing his chin and the desk to now be on the same level. He lets out an annoyed sigh and looks over at his clock.

"How is it not even lunchtime yet? Come on you stupid clock! Go faster!"

He buries his head in both his hands and faceplants on his desk.

_"I hate working on Fridays. All Friday does is remind you that it isn't the weekend yet. I hate all the Fridays! They're long and they're boring and they're stupid!" _

He picks his head up again and looks over at the clock.

"Oh Come on! When will you be five!"

Chandler drops his head into his hands again and closes his eyes. He allows his mind to escape back to this morning, when he was last with Monica, at her apartment. He remembers how good she smelled, fresh out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her gorgeous frame. His face becomes more blissful as he focuses on that memory and the conversation they had.

* * *

"I promised Phoebe I would go with her to the doctor, so even if you call in sick, we wouldn't be able to do anything. Let me take care of her and when I get home, I will call you. Just go to work or else you'll be sitting around here all day looking suspicious." Monica places her hands onto Chandler's shoulders and gives them a gentle squeeze. "Look sweetie, I wish we could spend all day in bed, but at some point, we do have responsibilities, we have to get something accomplished."

Chandler looks down at his feet and pouts. "I don't wanna accomplish something."

Monica lets out a warm, breathy laugh and smiles as she wraps her arms around his neck. She places a small, tender kiss on his lips. "I know. But look, after today, we will have tonight all to ourselves before Ross comes home tomorrow. Rachel isn't coming home until Monday. Phoebe is going over to Frank and Alice's and Joey has that date tonight. We can be alone all night and we can make up for all this lost time."

Chandler flashes her a sly grin, "Mon, I'm not just all this." He gestures his hands to his body as if he were on display. "I have a mind too you know. And feelings. What do you think I am? Just a piece of meat you can order on delivery?"

Monica holds Chandler at arms length, feigns a serious look and tilts her head. "Yeah, pretty much."

Chandler leans in to kiss her again. "Okay."

* * *

Chandler is broken out of his daydream as he hears his boss bellow his name.

"BING!"

He looks up to see Doug standing in the doorway of his office. Doug inhales, exaggeratedly, through his nostrils.

"How's that status report going. Need that on my desk first thing Monday morning. Although, I'll probably be late Monday, so why don't we say noonish?"

Chandler just quietly nods at Doug and starts to get lost in his own thoughts.

_"I can't believe Ross is coming back tomorrow. Ruining all the sex. Stupid Emily, running away. If those two had made up I'd be getting myself ready for round three of the Chanlovefest right about now." _

Chandler angrily shakes his head and starts to speak in a terrible British accent.

"Oh, helloooo, I'm Emily, I want to ruin your Friday!"

"BING! What's going on? What did you just say? Why are you talking like that?"

Chandler stiffens up realizing his boss is still standing at his office door. "What? Oh, sorry sir, I said..." he switches back over to the British accent again and stammers. "Em. Uh. Early. Em Early. Doin it Friday. Em Early, Doing it Friday."

Doug looks back at Chandler with a puzzled expression on his face. "What?"

Chandler breaks out of the accent, still stammering. "Oh, uh, that's just, uh, how the kids talk nowadays. I was trying to tell you I'll be done early and have it for you Friday."

"But today is Friday."

"I know. And I'll be done Friday. Which is today. I'll be done today!"

Doug looks down, shakes his head, and walks away muttering to himself.

Chandler lets out a sigh and looks over at his clock again, "Oh come on!"

His office phone rings and he frantically picks up the receiver.

"Mon?" He falls silent and a wave of disappointment crashes onto his face. "Oh, hi Joey. What? No, I didn't say Mon, well, I did say Mon but it was like..." Chandler starts to talk in a terrible Jamaican accent. "Hey Mon, how can I help you. What? No, that is not a southern accent Joe! What? Well I don't know Joey, did the duck eat a bunch of caterpillars last night? You should go get something for him to throw them up into so it doesn't get all over the place. I don't know. Maybe the girls have something you can use. No, don't let him make a mess on the floor! Well, put them in your room! Okay. What? No, I am not coming home soon and I won't have a spare pizza when I do. Okay then. Thank you. Bye bye now."

Chandler slams the phone down in a huff and starts to play with some pens that are standing up in a cup in front of him. He looks over at the clock one more time and then proceeds to bang his head on the desk.

* * *

Chandler bounds up the stairs to his floor. His energy almost childlike. His aggrieved facial expressions from this morning has given way to frenetic excitement as he makes his way to Monica's door. He pauses for a few moments and tries to smooth down any errant hairs he may have. He cups his hands around his nose and mouth and attempts to figure out if his breath is acceptable. He straightens his tie and triumphantly swings the door open.

"Hello gorgeous!"

Chandler stops dead in his tracks as he sees Phoebe sitting alone on the couch. She turns around to face him and crooks her neck, giving him a confused look.

"Oh, uh, ah, hey Pheebs. Just, uh. You know. Pregnancy glow, right? You're radiant."

Phoebe turns back around to face the TV. "Well, obviously."

Chandler looks around the apartment. "So, is Monica here?"

"No, she got called into work. I'm just really too pregnant to move so I am staying here. I'll go see Frank and Alice tomorrow. Monica said Rachel wasn't coming back until Monday so I can sleep in her room."

A look of disappointment once again overcomes Chandler. "Oh, well, okay Pheebs. I guess I'll go back to my place and change. But once again. You know, radiant."

Phoebe sighs. "Okay, you don't have to keep saying it, we all know."

Chandler dejectedly walks across the hall and into his apartment. It dawns on him that this will be the first time since they got back from London where he won't be able to see Monica. At least not with Phoebe staying in the apartment overnight. He also acknowledges that they won't be able to stay here in his apartment if Joey decides to bring his date here before Monica's shift ends. Chandler's eyes soften as he sighs regretfully.

_"I guess this is what it is going to be like once everything gets back to normal. We won't be able to see each other every night." _

Chandler folds his arms and looks off into his dark, empty apartment, feeling depressed that this is going to be his world again.

_"This could be the beginning of the end of all this. If we can't figure out how to spend time together, eventually Monica is going to find someone better than me that she can actually bring around the gang and that'll be it for me. Nobody wants a secret boyfriend." _

Chandler throws his keys on the counter in the kitchen and collapses into his Barcalounger, letting out a very loud and dissatisfied groan. He covers his face with both of his hands. Suddenly he hears a very familiar, sing-song voice call out from the bathroom that relaxes the tension in his body.

"Helllllooooo!"

Chandler sits up and darts his eyes around the room like an excited puppy trying to locate a treat.

"Mon?"

"I think I need you to come in here. There is something wrong with your bathtub."

Chandler springs off of his chair and leaps over to the bathroom, swinging the door open enthusiastically. Once inside he sees the low light of several candles illuminating the room and a bottle of sparkling wine sitting on the sink. He turns his head towards the bathtub to see Monica, up to her neckline in bubbles. Her hair tied up, wine glass in her hand and a sweet smile on her face.

"Well, hello stranger. So, there is something wrong with your tub."

Chandler, almost too shocked to reply, looks around the room again and a relieved smile appears on his face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Monica playfully splashes some bubbles in Chandler's direction. "Well, you're not in it."

Chandler's eyes widen and he starts to frantically pull off his tie, throwing his coat on the floor. As he is kicking off his shoes, he notices a slightly concerned look on Monica's face.

"What is it? What's wrong? Am I not supposed to be getting naked?"

She looks up at him and smiles. "No, you should be getting naked, just, well, are you just going to leave your clothes on the floor like that? It's kind of distracting."

Chandler laughs, leans over the edge of the tub and kisses Monica.

"No, of course not. Let me go put my things in my room and I'll be right back."

Monica smiles again and closes her eyes.

"Okay! Oh, and maybe put your shoes in your closet?"

Chandler steps towards the bathroom door and snatches his robe from a hook.

"Yes, and I'll put my shoes in the closet."

* * *

A/N – So there it is. The story starts with that first kiss when they return to New York and ends with them in the bathtub. I have never tried to do anything like this before and I wanted to be as true to the characters as I could. I know the writing style probably changed a little from chapter to chapter but I wanted to try and make the ones where Monica was the focal point more descriptive because, as a character, she would focus on the details while Chandler's is less about details and his surroundings and more about his awkwardness and penchant for putting people off with his humor. I hope people who like this kind of thing enjoy it and any feedback is welcome as I think about what to do next. If you got all the way here, thanks so much for taking the time to read it.


	7. Saturday

**Saturday**

Monica charges towards Chandler once they get into her room and begins to furiously tear at his shirt. Her impatient, insatiable arousal driving her fingers as they dig into his body through his clothes. He winces in pain as she accidentally pinches his chest while trying to undo his buttons.

"Ow! Leave some skin."

Monica shakes her head as she savagely yanks his shirt off.

"Get naked! We've been waiting all morning for Phoebe to leave the apartment. With her here today and Joey interrupting us last night, I think I am going to go crazy if we do not have sex right now!"

Chandler smirks as he slips out of his undershirt. "Oh, so, you're hooked on the Chan love? Huh? Can't get enough of me. Need to feed."

Monica stops for a moment as her fingers hook onto Chandler's belt and she stares at him with a confused expression on her face.

"Need to feed?"

"I don't know what I'm saying half the time either."

His flat smile turns into a frenetic look as he tries to kick off his shoes while Monica undoes his belt.

"Let me at least get my shoes off woman! Don't you know I need to be romanced and seduced? I can't just turn on the heat."

Monica rolls her eyes and pulls her shirt off, revealing a lacy black bra. Chandler becomes slack-jawed as his eyes travel up and down her body.

"That'll do it. Consider me seduced."

Monica chuckles as she shimmies out of her pants while Chandler quickly discards his own. He tosses them on top of the pile of clothes that the two of them have created on the floor as they haphazardly undress. They collide again in a frenzy; their lips crash into each other as they share a long sensual kiss followed by a series of short, hard kisses. Monica reaches up and starts to rub his earlobes as Chandler brings his hands down to the sides of her face, as if he were trying to hold her still. She runs her hands low to his waist and tries to rip his boxers off of him.

"I said get naked."

"You're not naked."

"I'm going to be!"

Chandler's eyes go wide in anticipation of getting to see Monica undressed again as he kicks his boxers off. He collapses down on the bed in a heap, groping for any part of her body he can touch in an attempt to keep from losing the sensation of her skin on his. Monica steps back and then pounces on him as she runs her hands up his chest. Chandler reaches behind her back and starts to fiddle around, looking for the clasp to her bra.

"It's in the front."

Chandler's eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Why does that turn you on?"

"All of this is turning me on. Okay? Seriously, from now on, just assume that I am always turned on."

Monica giggles and sits up so she can remove her bra, but just as she is about to open it, she stops when incessant, loud knocking carries through the apartment. Chandler groans as he reaches up to try and compel her to continue.

"The door is locked, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, let's just ignore it."

Monica's brow wrinkles as she looks off towards her bedroom door. "What if it's Phoebe? She knows we're here. It'll look suspicious."

Chandler pulls Monica back down on top of him. "Maybe it's just Treager. If we're really quiet, and we don't answer, he'll go away." He starts to kiss her along her jawline and Monica lets out a small moan. She shushes him and holds still on top of him, her eyes still fixated on her bedroom door. Chandler focuses his gaze on her chest and nods approvingly. Monica looks down at him and tries to suppress a smile.

"What are you doing?"

"You're really hot."

"Shhh!"

The knocking becomes louder and louder until Monica finally shakes her head in defeat.

"I'm coming!"

Chandler lets out another low, disappointed groan.

"Really? You're going to answer the door now?"

"Whoever it is, they aren't going away. I'll go get rid of them and come right back. You stay here just like this."

Monica quickly picks her shirt up from the floor and throws it back on. She snags her pants from the pile and squeezes into them quickly. Chandler sits up on the edge of the bed and starts scanning the floor for his clothes. He finds his boxers and hooks them on his foot to try and pull them closer to him. Monica turns to look at him disapprovingly.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed. You know, just in case."

Monica pulls his boxers off his foot and gives him a devilish smile as she starts to gather his clothes in her arms.

"I said I wanted you naked. I'll get rid of them. You just stay here and don't move!"

Chandler shrugs his shoulders and leans back. "So, I'm just supposed to do what you tell me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Monica laughs and runs out of her bedroom, carrying his clothes, and closes the door behind her. She chuckles once more as she turns back to look at her bedroom. She cannot help but smile as she admits to herself that she did not know sex could be so much fun. Monica quickly deposits Chandler's clothes on the couch and scurries to the front door when she hears another round of frantic knocking.

"I said I was coming! Hold your horses!" She slides the chain off and unlocks the door. She adopts an antagonistic expression as she swings it open in an attempt to ward off whoever is trying to disturb her. "Look, I don't really have…." Monica steps back in shock and gasps. "Mom? Dad?"

Jack Geller rushes past his daughter. "Pumpkin. I need to use your bathroom! Right away."

Judy slowly walks in behind him. "Oh Monica. Thank goodness you're here."

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

Judy Geller stumbles over to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair. "Oh, I think we may have food poisoning." She sits down and holds her weary head in her hands.

"Food poisoning?"

"Please keep it down dear. My head is throbbing."

Monica looks back nervously at her room.

"Where did you guys eat?"

"Well, we went over to see your brother and stopped at this little Greek restaurant near his building. When we left, we both started to feel very ill. We were going to go to his apartment, but he wasn't home."

"I don't think his flight comes in until later tonight."

"Well, I think we made it here just in time. At least for your father's sake." Judy gets up and starts to walk towards the living room. "I think I need to lie down. When your father comes out, tell him I went to your room."

Monica stiffens up and walks over to her mother. "My room?"

"Yes. I just need to close my eyes."

"Uh, you can't go in my room."

"Why not?"

"Well, uh, you see….I spilled something on my sheets and I was just about to change them." She gently grabs her mother's shoulders and steers her towards the other bedroom. "Why don't you rest in Rachel's room. I'm sure she won't mind."

"All right dear, but please tell me you haven't started eating meals in your bed again. You know that is how your weight problem started."

Monica rolls her eyes as she guides her into Rachel's room. "Just go lie down. I'll take care of Dad."

Once she closes the door behind her mother, Monica races over to her own bedroom, but stops as she realizes Chandler's clothes are still in a ball on the couch. She turns quickly to snatch them up so she can bring them with her, but hesitates once the bathroom door opens up.

"I am so sorry honey. I knew I shouldn't have had that yogurt sauce. You know what dairy does to me."

"I don't really need the details dad."

Jack Geller walks over to the couch to sit down as he grabs a tissue to wipe at his brow.

"Where's you mother?"

"She needed to lie down. Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe a glass of water." Jack looks over at the clothes piled up in the corner of the couch. "What are these?" He grabs at the boxer shorts and holds them up. "Are these yours?"

Monica's eyes go wide. "What? No, no. They are, uh, Ross's. Yeah. Ross left some clothes here from when he and Rachel were dating. I was just going to put them in a bag for him so he could take them home when he stops by."

"Oh. Well, just give them to me. Your mother and I are going to go back there tonight and wait for him to come home. You have a key to his place, right?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that. They aren't even clean."

"Monica. It's the least we can do after imposing on you like this. Pack them up and we'll just take them with us."

Monica gets up from the couch and slowly walks to the kitchen to grab a plastic bag from under the sink. "Okay. Thanks dad."

She hands the bag to her father and he bunches Chandler's clothes up and stuffs them in it. Monica mother steps out of Rachel's bedroom. "I do not feel well."

"I'm telling you, it was the yogurt sauce."

"Oh Jack, not everything is about dairy!"

Jack shrugs his shoulders and looks over at Monica. "Okay dear. Well, we better get going." He stands up and holds his head. "Oh, you know, maybe you should drive us over. We have the Porsche downstairs."

Monica looks back-and-forth between her mother and father and then looks over at her bedroom door. "Oh, uh, I don't know. I was about to go to sleep."

Judy huffs and shakes her head. "Monica, we are in no shape to drive."

Monica shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Fine. Let's go."

The three of them slowly shamble to the door and Monica gives one last look at her bedroom before exiting the apartment.

* * *

Monica rushes through the front door and charges through her apartment towards her bedroom.

"Chandler! Are you still here?"

She walks into her room to find Chandler sitting on her bed, in her robe, reading her book.

"I am so sorry."

"No, it's fine. I got to catch up on my reading." He points at her book. "You know, at first, this was really boring, but after two hours of reading it I can honestly say that I am hooked. I can't wait to see what happens to the daughter after her house burned down."

Monica gasps. "The daughter's house burns down!"

Chandler returns her stern gaze with a sheepish smile. "What? No, I, uh, made that up."

Monica shakes her head. "What are you still doing here?"

"Well, you told me to stay put."

"Aw. You waited here all this time for me?"

"Of course I did. Also, I couldn't go anywhere because my keys were in my pants that your father took to Ross's and the apartment is locked."

Monica chuckles as she slides onto the bed. "Well, I guess this was good practice."

"Practice? For what?"

"For when everyone is home and we have to sneak around." She leans into him and slowly runs her fingers up his arm. "I really am so sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you."

"Oh yeah?"

Monica smiles as she nods. "Anything you want."

Chandler runs his hand over the fabric of the robe. "Can you tell me where you got this robe? It is so soft and comfortable. I love it!"

* * *

A/N - I lied! This story isn't over. I decided to try and edit these chapters a bit to fix mistakes and clean some stuff up, and I got a few ideas and realized that in the original version, I only wrote five days after London. That's not a week! SO I owe everyone two more days.

Now, I know it might not be right to add on to a story I had said was finished, but someone once told me there are no rules to Fanfiction, so blame Babatomyfriends for this.


	8. Sunday ()

**Sunday**

"Oh. My. God!"

"I know!"

"Oh. My. God!"

"We are gonna do that again!"

Chandler let out a husky laugh as Monica rolled over and off of him. She took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on slowing her heart rate down since it felt as if it would explode out of her chest. She shuddered a bit as the adrenaline flowed through her body like an electric shock that traveled from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, almost causing goosebumps to form on her arms. To her complete surprise, it happened again. Not the sex. After a week of sleeping with Chandler, sex is now a given. It would feel even stranger if they did not have sex. No, what still does not fail to send a jolt of shock through her is that, even a week later, this is still the best sex she has ever had.

At first, she thought that maybe she was just having a primal reaction to finally having sex again. After all, it was over a year since the last time she slept with someone before she and Chandler fell into bed together in London. It blew her away, curled her toes, and straightened her hair; but she had just assumed that her body was so overly sensitive, that if all he did was stroke her arm that night, she probably would have had an orgasm.

She was certain that after that first time, it would get weird, awkward and stale. She would come to her senses, feel remorse for what she had done in a moment of weakness, and try to gracefully move on. But then they did it again. And again. And again. And then three more times after that. It never disappointed. It was incredible. Every touch was perfect. Anywhere he put his hands or his mouth, sent waves of rapturous delight through her body. It was as if he were genetically modified to please her. And it was fun. And she laughed. And smiled. It was sexy. It was comfortable. It was everything sex for the first time with someone should not be, and yet, it was.

Still, she was unconvinced. This was Chandler. She was Monica. It didn't make any sense. So, in one last attempt to convince herself that this was not real, she told herself that it had to be London. There was no other explanation. The wedding, the drinks, her screwed up emotions; it was the perfect toxic cocktail of events that led to a most wonderful night. That was all it could be. One night. But then they got back to New York, and it took all her strength not to rip his clothes off right there in the kitchen. Joey and Phoebe be damned. She was so hungry with desire, that she didn't care in that moment. She had waited almost forty-eight hours for his hands to be on her body again. She could not wait another minute. That was when she knew, it wasn't some mistake in London. There was no man there in her apartment telling her she looked old. There was no wedding to be making her jealous and sad. Her mother's words had long stopped ringing in her ears. There was no alcohol. There was just him, with that goofy grin and those blue eyes and that crazy hair that she just wanted to run her fingers through and she had to have him.

And have him she did. In her room, on the couch, on the floor in Rachel's room, in the shower, on the kitchen table. They had sex anywhere there was a surface to rest on, and also that one time where there was nothing but him holding her in the air. She had never had it like this before. She had never experienced complete satisfaction for a week straight. She did not know where this came from or why now, all she knew, was that she did not want this to end.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"What?"

Monica pounced on top of him. She pinned his arms down and crashed hard against his body with a series of frenetic kisses as she reached down to pull the bedsheets off of him. She was not going to be denied this kind of pleasure ever again.

* * *

"You know, by tomorrow night, you aren't going to be able to be that loud anymore. Have you thought of that?"

Monica raised an eyebrow as she turned her head towards him. "Why?"

"Rachel will be back."

"Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting about her."

"Well, that's because of all the Chan-love."

Monica wanted to protest, or at least embarrass him and deflate some of his over-confidence, but she did not have the energy. "You're probably right."

"I guess I'll have to sneak over in the middle of the night after she goes to sleep."

"Or I could just spike her drinks from now on. She'll think she's having Earl Grey, but really, she'll be having a vodka-slash-Tylenol PM cocktail. It isn't a drinking problem if you don't know there's alcohol in your cup, right?"

"No, but it might be a felon."

Monica bit her lip and shook her head. "I'll have to be quiet."

"We could use my room, Joey sleeps pretty heavy once he starts snoring."

"I don't know if I want to have sex to the dulcet tones of Joey's deviated septum."

"Maybe I can start playing music at night, and then he'll get used to it and we can play the radio to drown him out."

"That could be a problem. Sometimes I end up humming along to the songs when the radio is playing."

"That could be kind of hot if we have your mouth in the right position." Monica slapped him on the chest and smirked. Chandler looked over at her and kissed the top of her head. "Do you think you can stay quiet?"

"I don't know. Let's find out." Monica pulled Chandler over and on top of her as she wrapped her legs around his back.

* * *

Chandler could not believe what was happening to him. Never in a million years could this scenario have ever played out in his head, even in his most wild of fantasies. He has already had sex three times tonight. And once this afternoon. And what he considered a half-to-three-quarters first thing in the morning before Joey almost caught them as he came in looking for breakfast.

Monica was insatiable. She was like some wildcat that stalked him around the apartment, and without warning, she would jump on top of him. It was as if she were commanding him to perform. He was not complaining. He made sure to repeat that silently as many times as he could, just on the off chance that there was some cosmic entity who controlled everything and would take this away from him if it heard him question its validity.

He still questioned it though. Three times. There have been years of his life where he hadn't had sex more than three times. Yet here was this amazing, beautiful woman who wanted to use his body as if she were some sexual vampire, intent on draining him of all his virility. He didn't care. He was game. If this was going to be how he died, he would want it proudly etched on his tombstone for all to see. With illustrations.

He glanced over at her. Even now, sweaty, hair tussled, breathing heavy, glassy eyed; she was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. He knew from the moment that she crashed her lips on his in that hotel room in London, that for however long she wanted this to go on, he was all hers. Hook, line and sinker. It didn't matter to him who was in charge and who initiated. As long as he got to taste her skin that was a mix of salty sweat and what he could only describe as honeysuckle. Sweet and savory.

"You weren't very quiet."

"I thought about trying to be quiet, but then I said to myself, to hell with that. Rachel isn't home yet. I am going to enjoy myself."

He laughed and reached over to stroke her stomach with the back of his hand. He needed to be in constant physical contact with her, almost to ensure she did not disappear like some object of fairy tale magic that vanished at the stroke of midnight. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and when their skin touched, she closed her eyes and smiled. That was what blew his mind the most. Not that this was happening, although, yes, that was insane. It was that she wanted it, she liked it. He would touch her, and she would smile, and it felt like the greatest trick he would ever learn.

"We need to come up with a plan." Monica almost hummed as she spoke, her eyes still closed.

"A plan?"

"Yes. With Rachel coming home tomorrow, Ross back already, Phoebe and Joey; we need a plan."

"What? We can't have a plan. Sex is supposed to be spontaneous, and unpredictable."

"We need to be organized. We need to come up with code words and ways to talk about it around the gang without everyone figuring it out."

Chandler laughed. To think he was going to keep this a secret. This amazing thing that was happening to him and he couldn't even brag about it to anyone. Who would believe him anyway?

"What are you laughing at."

"Nothing. Forget it. I don't want to get you mad at me."

"Chandler, I can't get mad right now. It is physically impossible for me to get mad. All my mad for at least the next twenty-four hours has been screwed out of me."

Chandler chuckled again. Just the idea that he was the one to do his to her made him light-headed. "Why don't we name it after a chore. You're always doing chores. You could be like "Chandler I need help with my…uh…something…and that's when we do it."

Monica's eyes snapped open. "Laundry!"

"What?"

"We can just say we're doing laundry. It's perfect. It's something we both would have to do anyway. It's totally believable. We've done our laundry together before so no one will think twice about it."

"So, laundry is going to mean sex."

"Yes, unless it actually means laundry."

"How am I going to know the difference."

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not."

Monica's breath started to hitch and she ran her hand over her flushed cheek. "Oh wow."

"What?"

"Nothing. I don't want you to get mad."

Chandler reached up and cupped one of Monica's breasts. "There. As long as I am holding one of these, it is impossible for me to get mad."

Monica giggled and shook her head. "All this talk about chores and laundry and sex and plans, well, it's kind of got me turned on. I mean, you're telling me I am going to have clean clothes and a lot of sex?"

"Why would that make me mad?"

"Well, you know, guys like to think they're the reason a woman gets turned on."

Chandler laughed and shook his head. "Look, I am just happy to be nominated."

Monica grabbed his hand and started to slowly slide it down the length of her body, until both their hands disappeared underneath the sheets. "I may have another part for you to play."

"I'd like to thank the academy."

* * *

"What about clothes?"

"What?"

"Well, last time, I was stuck here without any clothes. What if we have another emergency or a close call and one of us has to hide out until the coast is clear? Maybe we should make sure to have clean clothes hidden in each other's room. For emergencies."

Monica propped herself up and leaned over him, smiling at his initiative. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Tomorrow morning I'll run out and buy you some pajamas to keep here."

"I can just give you some of my pajamas."

"Everyone will know they're yours. Your pajamas aren't exactly what I would call inconspicuous. I mean, you have a set with race cars on them. What are you? Twelve?"

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Okay, so should I buy clothes for you?"

"Yeah, right. Like I'd trust you to pick out clothes for me. I'll just give you some."

Chandler stretched out and yawned. "What time is it?"

Monica lifted her head to see the clock on the bedside table. "Uh, about three-thirty."

"Maybe we should get some sleep. Everybody will be here in the morning."

Monica looked at the clock one more time and tilted her head. "Or we could have sex again."

* * *

Monica's head lifted up over the side of the bed from the floor as she looked around her room to check the clock. She looked down next to her to see Chandler trying to slip his arm out from under the bed.

He shook his head, trying to break his memory loose from the fog that sex and dehydration had caused in his brain. "How did we end up down here?"

Monica shrunk into her shoulders from embarrassment. "I think I might have thrown you out of bed and then jumped on top of you during that last one."

"Oh, is that why my ribs hurt?"

Monica gently touched him on the side and slowly rubbed him along his ribcage. She stopped when she heard a noise come from the kitchen of her apartment.

"Shh! Who is that? It can't be Rachel. It's too early."

Chandler closed his eyes and nodded. "Joey."

"Joey? What?"

"Yeah, uh, he normally has a snack in the middle of the night."

"Why is he here?"

"Well, you always have better snacks."

She stayed still and tried to listen intently on their nocturnal intruder. "Is he awake?"

"Barely."

The sound of one of the kitchen chairs rubbing against the floor echos throughout the apartment as it gets pulled out so their visitor can sit.

"I can't believe I've never heard him out there before. How long has he been doing this?"

"I'm not sure. What year did he move in with me?"

Monica bit her lip and then looked over at Chandler with a lascivious gleam in her eye, "This is a great opportunity to practice."

"Practice what?"

"Being quiet." Monica placed both her hands on his chest and forced him down to the ground. Chandler let out a groan as he hit the floor with a thud.

* * *

"I can't believe I have to go to work in two hours." Chandler tugged on the the blanket so he could cover Monica's shoulders and pulled her into his body. "I probably should go back to my place and take a shower."

Monica nuzzled her head into his chest and let out a long, satisfied sigh. "You know what? You should bring a couple of your suits over here to keep in my closet and just shower with me this morning. It might be our last chance to shower together. for a while."

"What? Seriously? Now?"

Monica slowly nodded her head. "Come on Chandler. It'll be fun. Let's shower together. We still have about an hour or so before anyone else comes here. As long as we are careful and we don't do anything stupid, we'll beat them!"

"Beat who?"

"The gang. It's us versus them now."

"Really?"

"Yes! Everything is a competition. How do you not know that by now?" Monica gently pinched Chandler on the chest, causing a jolt through his body. "So, what do you say? Care to join me in the shower?"

"You had me at suits in the closet." Chandler kissed her at the crown of her head and rested his eyes. "I can't believe this is coming to an end."

"What?"

"You know, all this freedom to just do it whenever we want. I mean, how do I know when we are going to do it again?"

Monica let a devilish smile spread across her lips. "Well, I do have to do some laundry tonight."

"Oh yeah? You know what, I think I might have to do some laundry too." Chandler breathed in deep, as if he were trying to take in her scent. "We're talking about sex, right?"

* * *

A/N - Okay, now that is a week. Sunday to Sunday. I originally ended this at the bathtub scene during the cold open to "TOW All the Kissing", but that episode takes place over a few days. So, now, for the purposed of my story; Joey interrupts them in the bath on Friday and Rachel comes home on Monday, giving me one more weekend to play with before Chandler goes to work and instinctively kisses Monica in front of Rachel and Phoebe.

Now on to edit and clean up the next story in this series. I'm sure I won't add anything to that. Really. Maybe.

I probably will.


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